


A Matter of Style

by ohmyfae



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Designer!AU, M/M, Sort of hatesex between Noct and Ravus but not quite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 04:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21173237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyfae/pseuds/ohmyfae
Summary: Ardyn Izunia is an up and coming fashion designer, but when his assistant and his favorite model get into a tiff over a dramatic show on the runway, Ardyn decides to let them sort it out themselves.The result is positively delightful.





	A Matter of Style

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dustofwarfare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/gifts).

> Thanks to dustofwarfare for encouraging me to go with this AU and talking Ravus-related fashion. :3 
> 
> Honestly, I could write so much more of this AU, y’all. So much.

The Insomnian East City Ball wasn’t a time-honored tradition, but in Ardyn Izunia’s esteemed opinion, it certainly should have been. Designers from Lucis to Niflheim flocked to the arena next to the Citadel for three weeks of designing on the fly, with only a few days to turn their models into walking works of art.

Ardyn smiled politely as models tottered by with oversized hats and glittering shawls, while his assistant, bored out of his mind, tried to draw in his notebook without being spotted. The other designers in his category watched Ardyn warily, examining his face for any subtle shift or hint of unease, but Ardyn had perfected his vacant, glassy stare years ago, and only turned his slight smile their way.

Then there was a flash of white and black and Ardyn sat up a little straighter, one hand on his chin.

Ardyn’s model, Ravus Nox Fleuret, strode onto the catwalk with a deliberate, steady gait, ignoring the man in green brocade sidestepping out of his way. His prosthetic arm had thin, translucent blue plates fixed to the back of his knuckles, matching the gaudy sapphire rings dripping off his other hand, and a faint blue crown was pinned to his brow. His shirt was loose and white with a ruffle at the collar, and his pants were fitted perfectly, but the crowd eyed each other as he neared the end of the runway. Ardyn was not known for playing it safe, but Ravus looked like the sort of model one would find on the inside pages of a mall magazine, hardly the outlandish displays Ardyn was known for.

Surrounded by the uneasy whispers of the crowd, Ardyn risked a slow smile.

Ravus clicked his heels to a halt. The crowd straightened in their seats as Ardyn’s assistant climbed onto the catwalk, ungainly and awkward in his skull-print shirt and shredded capris, to stand a good foot and a half under Ravus’ gleaming crown. He reached out to Ravus’ collar, and Ravus’ upper lip curled.

The sound of cloth shredding under Noct’s hands was remarkably loud.

Ravus’ shirt fell to pieces in Noct’s grip, slithering down to reveal an underside of midnight blue. His bare chest heaved, and diamonds flickered in the stage lights, hung by spiderwebbing threads draped in artful loops from the remains of his shirt. Noct took him by the shoulder and swung him violently around. Ravus stumbled as Noct yanked down the back of his shirt with one fisted hand, and a dark blue cloak unfurled, ragged at the edges and dotted with stars. The crowd murmured appreciatively as Ravus, spots of color burning high on his cheeks, took off down the runway without a backwards glance at Noct. To the crowd, it looked as though Ravus were blending with his cloak, disappearing into twisting scraps of night.

It was a perfect coup. The headline photo for the event was of Ravus storming off, with Noct standing small and untidy at the other end of the catwalk, and no one even bothered to do more than give a halfhearted list of the other competitors. 

“You didn’t have to be _crude,_” Ravus said later, sitting at the kitchen counter with a glass of wine. His fashion prosthetic was on the kitchen table, the decorative plates in a tidy pile next to the stiff, unyielding hand, and Ravus was wearing a grey silk shirt with a buttoned left sleeve and shapeless sleep pants. He grunted as Ardyn tugged at the laces of a new corset, which fit neatly over the silk.

“Shoulders straight,” Ardyn murmured, and Ravus lifted his chin just a fraction. 

“He asked me to make it dramatic,” Noct said. He lay on the couch, head tilted back to look at them, and Ardyn took a moment to appreciate the picture he made, drowning in one of Ardyn’s evening robes. “And it’s not like it tore.”

Ravus twisted to glare, and Ardyn carefully eased him back into place. For all that Ravus muttered often enough about being used as a glorified mannequin, he was unsurprisingly compliant under Ardyn’s touch. Ardyn jerked at the ties again, and Ravus blinked. 

“Just bit more,” Ardyn said. Ravus was always so still when he was _properly_ dressed, all that coiled energy pulled taut in that tenuous moment before the break. “You could do with a stiffer collar. Something just so.” He wrapped a hand around Ravus’ neck to demonstrate, and Ravus’ pulse thumped against his fingers.

“The bedroom’s right there,” Noct said, jerking his head towards the master bedroom, where one to all of them slept on any given night. “Can you actually use it this time? I’m not cleaning up after you.” Ravus narrowed his eyes.

“I haven’t known you to do a service for anyone,” he said. “Not without the use of a bribe.” Noct stiffened, just slightly, and Ardyn drew away from Ravus with a sigh. 

“Boys.”

“No,” Noct said, sitting up. “No, I want to hear this.”

“And I don’t,” Ardyn said, abandoning Ravus to head for the wine cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of dark red and set it on the counter. “Work it out amongst yourselves, if you will. You’re both full grown men.”

“In theory,” Ravus drawled.

Ardyn didn’t bother trying to intervene. He wasn’t even halfway through his glass when his framed awards rattled on the walls and a painting of a woman in a field of roses tilted slightly under the weight of Noct’s back. Noct cursed and tugged at Ravus’ loose bun, which fell apart under his fingers, and Ravus took that as a reason to bite harder on the juncture of his neck, making Noct jerk under his hand.

“Beasts,” Ardyn said into his wineglass, more than a little fond. 

Ravus spun Noct around by the shoulder, mirroring Ardyn’s little drama on the catwalk, and Noct winced as Ravus’ knee collided with the back of his leg. “Back,” he grunted, and Ravus stilled for a moment, reaching down to touch Noct’s thigh, right where he set the brace he wore on bad days.

“‘S fine,” Noct said, and the moment passed, leaving a Ravus free to push his cheek up against the wallpaper.

Ardyn discreetly topped off his glass. 

The corset stayed on. Noct may have scratched angry red lines up Ravus’ thighs and tossed his sweatpants into a dark corner, and Ardyn’s third favorite dress robe may have been bunched up under Noct on the chaise lounge while Ravus pushed him into the cushion with every thrust, but the corset remained, a neat row of ribbons running up Ravus’ back like a second spine. Ardyn admired it as he poured a second glass, watching the muscles of Ravus’ back shift, his thighs clenching as he neared his peak. 

“Wearing out?” Noct gasped, red-faced and deliciously disheveled with his legs wrapped around Ravus’ hips. His hair hung in his eyes, sticking to his sweat-damp cheeks. “It’s ok... bet Ardyn can make up the dif—“

The crack of Ravus’ open palm on Noct’s cheek was loud enough that Ardyn raised his brows and leaned to the side for a better look. Noct’s gaze had gone glassy and dark, and his heels dug in to the back of Ravus’ legs, trying to press him closer still.

Ah.

“So fucking _demanding,_” Ravus hissed. He was forcing himself to piston into Noct, keeping up a brutal pace that made his face twist with the effort of not coming undone. He could be a bit of a pillow princess after a long day, but Noct, it seemed, was clearly the exception. He wasn’t long for it, if the way he slid his fingers along Noct’s open mouth was any indication. “Don’t know why... Ardyn keeps you around...”

Ardyn doubted Noct could have formed a coherent response to _that_ if he wanted to. He was boneless under Ravus, lost in pleasure, and didn’t even manage a snide remark when Ravus collapsed, pinning him to the chaise lounge. 

Ardyn let them lie there a moment, breathing hard in the aftermath, before he took his glass to the sink for someone else to wash. He came back with a damp cloth to find Noct with an arm draped over Ravus’ shoulders, his free hand digging in Ravus’ hair. He always was tender, afterwards, even with Ravus, and Ardyn wondered if that didn’t, in some small way, make it just that much harder for Ravus to reconcile. 

He handed the cloth to Noct and started loosening the corset. Ravus made a soft noise in the back of his throat and twisted round as it came loose. He pulled Ardyn into a slow, almost pliant kiss, and Noct grunted and shifted beneath him, still trapped by Ravus’ weight.

“Oh hush,” Ardyn said, turning Ravus’ cheek to the side to look down at Noct. “You’ll survive.”

Ravus smiled at that, his lips curving under Ardyn’s thumb. Ardyn kissed him again, just the once, and patted him gently on the cheek before pulling away. Ravus and Noct both gave him slightly bewildered looks, and Ardyn shrugged a shoulder. 

“Surely you don’t expect _me_ to clean up after _your_ mess,” he said. “_I’m _going to bed, thank you. Lots to do tomorrow. It’s ballroom week, you know.”

“Oh, fuck me,” Ravus groaned, sitting up.

“Not yet,” Ardyn said, and Noct and Ravus both rolled their eyes. “I’ll need you to walk.”

“At least we know why he keeps _you_ around,” Noct said, and, as Ardyn stepped into the comfort of his spacious bedroom, he could have sworn he heard Ravus laugh.


End file.
